For the Smile of an Angel
by BrokenRosesBlack
Summary: The war ended in the summer after 6th year. Dumbledore, Snape and Fred never died. When Hermione returns to Hogwarts for her final year, she takes on the burdens of being Head Girl, protecting a certain blonde Slytherin, and ... raising a baby? And why does all the trouble seem to revolve around her this year? Not your typical Parenting Class fic!
1. Chapter 1

The summer after our sixth year at Hogwarts passed in a rush. Dumbledore, with Harry's help, managed to track down the remaining fragments of Voldemort's soul in a cross-country Horcrux hunting spree. I honestly didn't think the old Headmaster still had it in him. Their success didn't come without its costs though. Preoccupied with the search, Dumbledore and Harry were both unavailable to help the wizarding world as it sank into despair. I remember the night we moved my parents to the Weasley's house in an effort to protect them. The night my world began to change.

"Hermione, love, are you sure this is safe?" my dad asked once again as I prepared to apparate them to the Burrow. Fred and George had already come and gone, taking our belongings with them. Now all that was left in my home were a few empty picture frames on the mantel.

"I'm sure, dad. Don't worry, I've done this many times," I reassured him, taking his hand. Mother took my other hand, looking slightly sick. Holding onto them tightly, I turned sharply and vanished from the spot. After being squeezed sharply, twisting, turning, and suddenly appearing moments later in the fields behind the Burrow, my parents collapsed shakily. Landing on my feet, I surveyed the space around me. Something felt wrong.

Then I heard them, the shouts and screams. Brilliant flashes of light flared up from near the house, bright in the dark night. "Stay here," I warned my parents, then raced off through the grass.

I never made it into the fray. A paralyzing spell hit me before I could figure out what was going on. As I fell to the ground, I realized the Weasleys were under attack from Death Eaters. One of the hooded men found me and shouted something to his companions. He knocked me out and we were gone before any of the redheads could come to my aid. That was the night George lost his ear.

I'd been taken back to the Malfoy Manor, my wand was snapped, and I was locked in the basement for most of the summer. During that time I gave up. I thought they'd kill me. I wanted to die. If I lived, Harry might try to come get me, and he'd be caught. As it turned out, he didn't hear of my kidnapping until after the war had ended.

So for two months it wasn't Harry and Ron who looked after me, but someone entirely unexpected. When Voldemort had realized there was value in keeping me alive, for the same reason I wanted to die, he put me under Draco's care. At first my caretaker begrudged me the effort it took to keep me alive. However, as Voldemort's reign of terror marched ever onward, the Slytherin began to confide in me.

Malfoy was sick of doing his father's and the Dark Lord's bidding. Every day he brought me news from outside, secretly gleeful whenever another piece of Voldemort was destroyed. I can still remember clearly the night he came down into the dungeon, furious, tears streaking down his face. It was the first night I'd held him. I realized then that I could never hate Draco ever again. He'd watched a Ravenclaw girl die, someone who'd tutored him during school. It had been the last straw.

He released me that night, sneaking me out on horseback so as to not draw attention to the use of magic. Without a wand, I couldn't apparate, and there was no way Draco could take me back to safety and not be arrested. Just outside the Malfoy property, he slid from the mare's back, telling me to keep her. He stood there in the dark as I rode as fast as I could away from the Manor.

I'd made my way back to muggle London and from there to the Leaky Cauldron. The barkeeper managed to get me back to the Weasleys, horse and all, where I fell ill and remained in bed until the war was over. I woke one day to see Harry and Ron by one side, my parents on the other. Voldemort was dead. Harry had confronted him at Hogwarts, the resting place of the last object Horcrux, with an army of students, teachers, and Order of the Phoenix members. Death Eaters and our allies alike were slaughtered, and we lost Lupin and Tonks and Fred and Mad-Eye and so many others that night.

Barely restored to health, I was called into the restored Ministry of Magic to give evidence at Draco's hearing. He'd turned himself in during the Last Battle, to avoid causing more deaths. The wizarding world was shocked when my testimony played in Malfoy's favor. He'd been let off with a light sentence: forced community service. He spent the rest of the summer helping to rebuild Hogwarts. Without magic.

And that brings us to the real story, which begins August 30th, at the Burrow.

"Hermione! You've got a letter, sweetheart!" Mum's voice called up the stairs. In Ginny's third floor bedroom, I rolled out of the cot I had claimed on her floor.

"Mrs. Granger!" George bellowed down the stairs.

"It's much too early to be waking the whole neighborhood!" continued Fred.

"Maybe we -"

"- should just -"

"- do it for you!"

I shook my head at the Twin's antics. If anything, they'd become even more rambunctious after you could tell them apart, perhaps to make up for it. As it was, a collection of groggy teens paraded down into the kitchen, where the two mothers already had breakfast all set up.

"Hermione, you look like you're wearing a bird's nest on your head." Ron had the audacity to point out. I gave him my best I'll-kill-you-later glare.

Mother proceeded to serve up eggs and bacon while Mrs. Weasley passed out the mail. In a strange reminder of normalcy, the Hogwarts letters had arrived for Harry, Ron, Ginny, and me. The twins were on temporary holiday while their apartment over Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was rebuilt, but that didn't stop them from each getting stacks of order forms every day from troublemakers across the country.

My letter was a good deal thicker than the others'. Along with a list of supplies for this year, a shiny black and gold badge and accompanying note fell out. Quick as a flash of lightning, George snagged the badge, showing it to Fred and snickering. In a move reminiscent of my third year at Hogwarts, Fred tapped it and handed it back to me. The badge had gone from reading "Head Girl" to "Big-Head Girl". Even I couldn't help but laugh, remembering Percy's fury those few years ago.

"Eat up, and get ready to go out. Quickly now!" Mrs. Weasley urged. "We're off to Diagon Alley as soon as you're all ready.

When all four Hogwarts students were ready, we filed one after the other into the fireplace, shouting "Diagon Alley" and disappearing into green flames. By Floo was _not_ my favorite way to travel, and I tumbled out into the Leaky Cauldron moments later with a sour expression. Ron's mum beat us all down with the usual carpet brush before letting us escape into the Alley.

I hadn't been to the wizard's shopping district since my imprisonment in the Malfoy Manor, and what I saw astounded me. Nothing had escaped the destruction of the war. Shop fronts all along the street had been scorched or smashed, and in some places whole buildings were simply gone. It was refreshing, however, to see so many people working together, even now, to repair the damage. As we watched, a brand new window display was installed at Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Right then, my robes are pretty much shot," Ron said. "I say we start at Madam Malkins?"

Ginny lead the way, skipping happily. It was good to see her so relaxed. We hadn't had a chance to rest in such a long time. "Don't forget, brother, we need dress robes this year too!"

Ron groaned, double-checking his supplies list. Beneath the normal supplies was a notice announcing that several balls would be held this year, celebrating the liberation of the wizarding world. The youngest Weasley brother's last experience with dress robes had lived on in Hogwarts legend for months after. The maroon robes were hideous.

Tinkling bells in the back of the shop signaled our arrival. As each of us took turns being measured for new school robes the others examined the racks cramming the front of the shop. Ginny's excitement was nearly tangible… mine, not so much. I was never the kind of girl to enjoy hours of shopping, but over the years Lavender and Ginny had managed to coax some kind of pleasure out of me during these experiences.

"I'm just not feeling it, Gin," I moaned, posing in the tenth dress thus far. The red satin looked good on me, but it didn't feel right. "Maybe I just won't go to the dances."

"You're Head Girl, Hermione. You have to," she scolded.

Sighing I turned back to the rack. "I know." I didn't want to tell her my real reason for not liking the dresses. I couldn't imagine dancing anymore. Not after the summer.

'Try the green one."

I did a complete about-face at the sound of the soft whisper. Ginny jumped. "What's wrong 'Mione?"

There was no one else in sight, and yet, that voice had been so clear. His voice, in the same gentle tone he had used when caring for me. "I thought I heard…" I mumbled, but left the statement unfinished. Facing me from the end of the rack was a green and black dress. Strapless, the dress would be held up by the black corset, which made up the top half. Falling to the floor beneath the corset were layers of green silk and black lace. Underneath, black tissue paper like fabric puffed out the bottom so it fell out instead of straight down. Attached to the same hanger was a shawl of sheer black fabric with green threads.

There was no doubt in my mind that this was the dress the voice referred too. There was also no doubt that I wanted it.

As we left the store, I tuned out Ginny's astonishment at my choice of fashion and Ron's insistent comments of "But it's green! _Slytherin _green!"

The rest of our shopping went rather quickly, although Harry did have to drag me away from a sixty-galleon tome in Flourish and Blots. Olivander was still working his beaten up shop, despite looking somewhat worse for wear after having been tortured by Death Eaters. I walked out half an hour later with a new wand to replace the one that had been destroyed.

10 ¼ inches, dogwood with unicorn tail hair, slightly springy, it was a loyal wand. At least that's what Olivander said. I rejoiced in being able to use magic again, instantly shrinking my shopping bags so they'd fit in my pocket. It work well for me.

The rest of that day and the next passed as they usually did right before the start of term; I sat out in the garden reading through my new textbooks as Harry and the Weasleys got in one last family game of Quidditch before the summer ended. We went to bed on the 31st giddy with excitement for the coming school year. For Harry, Ron, and I, it would be our last.

At eleven o clock exactly the next morning, the Hogwarts Express pulled away from Platform 9 ¾ as it always had. Passing through the tight corridor was even more difficult than usual as everyone felt the need to cheer for Harry. I was actually glad to escape to the prefects' car.

While as a prefect, my duty was to patrol the train every hour or so, as Head Girl I was afforded the luxury of spending the whole ride with my nose in a book. For this purpose I chose _Magic in the Young_ by Louisa Avarsi, the text for my Parenting class.

At lunch time the car was pretty much empty when the trolley came through. Uttering a "no thank you" when asked if I wanted anything, without looking up, I sent the kindly witch on her way. It startled me, then, to have a chocolate frog box dropped in my lap.

"You should at least eat something," the same soft voice said. "I don't want to have to keep feeding you."

Finally pulled from my text, I looked up into a pair of grey eyes. "Draco," I breathed.

"Surprised?" Malfoy asked, bending his tall form to take the seat across from me. I gazed in awe at him. Gone were the sunken cheeks and dark circles of the previous year. Physical labor had helped him fill into his height; he was still skinny, just not toothpick thin. The man who sat before me was unidentifiable as the man who had released me from his father's basement cage.

"You look better," I said. Better didn't even begin to describe it. The blonde Slytherin was, dare I even think it, rather attractive.

"I feel better. Sunlight and good food will do wonders for even a Malfoy."

"Why are you here though?" I gestured around us with my free hand.

Draco pointed at the frog. "You eat, I answer," he said.

Sighing I put the text down and opened the box to the charmed chocolate. The frog croaked once and tried to hop away, landing right in my palm. I bit off its sweet head before it could get away.

"That was more violent than I expected…." Malfoy said. I glared at him, my mouth full of chocolate. "Yes, I know. I'm here because it's part of my sentence. They should have put me in jail; instead they sent me back to school."

He held out a golden badge, very similar to mine.

"They made me Head Boy."


	2. Chapter 2

For minutes the only sound in the room was the steady rushing of the train along its tracks.

Swallowing the bit of chocolate still in my mouth, I asked, "Head Boy? Really?"

"I told them it was a bad idea, but Dumbledore wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

Looking at the blonde across from me, I realized just how much my time in his care had changed both of us, and the way we thought about each other. It was with all honesty when I said, "That's great! Look, I'm Head Girl." I pulled the badge from my robe pocket and handed it to him. He nodded solemnly and returned it.

"You're going to have to put up with me a good deal more, then, Granger."

I nodded as he rose. After resting his hand on my shoulder for a moment, he stalked off to another section of the train once more. Nibbling on the rest of my chocolate frog, I examined the collectable card that came with it. Dumbledore's aged face gazed up at me, and I could have sworn he smiled like he knew something I didn't.

The rest of the journey slid past. When the train finally pulled into Hogsmead Station, I'd worked my way through half of my Parenting text already. It really was an interesting read.

The night was dark, threatening rain, when I stepped off the Hogwarts Express. Through a mass of students in black robes I was able to pick out one particularly large and solid shadow from the rest.

"Firs' years!" the shadow called. "Firs' years this way!"

I reached Hagrid's side just as Harry and Ron did, pulling Ginny, Luna, and Neville in tow. "Take us with you!" Ron pleaded. "We're first years!"

The half-giant's booming laugh caused many of the real first years to jump in fright. "Yeh could split in 'alf, Ronald Weasley, and there'd still be enough fer two firs' years in yeh."

Ron shrugged. "Ah, well, it was worth a try."

"Fred and George would be so proud of you," Ginny said sarcastically, laying a hand on her brother's arm. He beamed.

"It's good to see yeh all, but yeh should be gettin' goin'." With a hand the size of a dustbin lid Hagrid shooed us off toward the carriages.

My friends talked and joked amongst themselves, happy to be together and happy just to be alive after everything that had happened that summer. I was content to simply lean with my head out the window, feeling the wind and watching our beloved school come steadily closer. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to Harry and Ron, just that my summer experiences had been so different from theirs. I'd never be able to compare with them, but that was okay.

Despite having been near to ruins after the Last Battle, the castle looked just as it always had. Works crews had spent long hours restoring it throughout August. Rising above the sloping lawns, its dark stone shone from within as light streamed from hundreds of windows. The Forbidden Forest and the Quidditch Pitch both faded away into darkness, but I could picture just how they would look when the sun blazed overhead- the forest with its deep pools of shadow and the pitch filled up with people eagerly watching the game. I remembered how it felt to be a first year, approaching the formidable castle by boat and feeling so utterly small and insignificant. Now as I approached that same sense of awe came over me, but I knew I would again be welcomed home along with the rest of my classmates.

In a flood every black-robed student rushed to the Great Hall, mingling and then dividing, finding our places along each of the house tables. At the head table, Dumbledore sat smiling, watching over us all like some sort of ancient guardian angel. To his left, Severus Snape was deep in conversation with Professor Sprout. On the right, Minerva McGonagall cast a thoughtful eye over the crowd. They were familiar, comforting guardians.

These were the people I most looked up to, more so even than my parents. I loved my family, but there was only so much they could show me. Six full years I'd been attending this school and I still didn't know half of what any professor could teach me. And being "the brightest witch of my age," that was saying something.

Before the Head table sat an old three-legged stool. Upon it sat the Sorting Hat, a device with far more years under its figurative belt than even the Headmaster. It was an object all students respected and loved, for it had placed each of us where we sat that night. Just as it would sort the incoming first years who stood fidgeting before it.

As always before the sorting, the Hat shook itself from its lifeless position. A long rip near the brim opened wide and began to sing a dry, rasping song. Each year, the Hat told us something different. This was it's song this year:

_An angel who comes_

_And walks through these halls_

_Has the power to hold them_

_Or cause them to fall._

_When storm clouds threaten_

_And she raises her voice_

_She'll beg you to help her._

_You must make a choice:_

_Protect her from danger,_

_kiss away every tear,_

_Comfort her sorrows_

_And fight all her fears,_

_Or send her away_

_To struggle alone_

_And watch how your actions_

_Will crumble these stones._

_For only together_

_Can we weather the storm,_

_Whether Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw,_

_Slytherin, or Gryffindor._

_Though your colors divide you,_

_Together you must hold._

_You're warning's been given,_

_And now you've been told._

_Think back to my song_

_When you reminisce,_

_For all children are angels,_

_So remember this._

The hall sat in silence for a moment, each of us struggling to understand what the hat was trying to tell us. Then slowly, and then suddenly in a great swell, the crowd around me began clapping. My hands came together slowly and only once or twice; my mind was still pondering the last lines of the song. Did it mean one of the younger students was going to threaten our school? Ice settled into the pit of my stomach as I contemplated the idea of another Voldemort entering these halls.

I sat in a daze through the sorting, only breaking from my thoughts when Ron's violent eating habits caught my attention. Feasting on tofu, potatoes, and stir-fried vegetables, my new vegetarian diet, I stuffed myself after only one plate. Of course, I saved room for dessert. I've always had a soft spot for the House Elves' pecan pie and crème brulees.

After his third plate of steak and potatoes, two bowls of banana ice cream, three slices of pumpkin pie and an entire slab of fudge, Ron looked up at me.

"'Mione," he said slowly, watching me pick at my pudding, "you've barely eaten a thing."

I shrugged. I was saved from explaining my depressed appetite by the Headmaster's move to stand before his students. His off-to-bed speech began by introducing the Head Boy and Girl, calling Draco and I to our feet. Awkwardness filled the hall as students cheered for me, but stayed primarily silent when my partner rose. The only ones clapping on the Gryffindor side were Harry, who only followed my lead, and I. Sensing the rising tension, the headmaster sent his students off to bed. With just a few simple words.

Malfoy and I met up in the Entrance Hall, not saying a word as we wound our way through the crowds to the fifth floor, where the painting of a woman and child hid the entrance to the Heads' dormitory. The woman was quite beautiful, clad in white and cuddling her child gently beneath a willow tree. Around the woman, child, and tree coiled a great snake.

"New Headsssss," hissed the serpent. "What issss your new passsssword?"

I nodded for Draco to take the lead. "River Blossoms" he told our guardians.

"Very well, Masssster." Accepting our choice of code, the painting swung forward.

The dormitory was a nice place. One wall held a fireplace with floor length windows on either side, looking out over the forest. A table, couch, and two armchairs were arranged before it. Another plush chair sat in a corner with smaller tables on either side and a stool before it on which to prop your feet. Bookshelves to the left meant reading material was within easy reach. On either side of a spiral staircase in the back, tapestries depicting our house symbols were draped from the walls. Finally, along the front wall, the one with the portrait hole was a table appropriate for studying.

Too tired to linger, I led the steady march up the staircase. At the top were two doors. First opening the one on the right, I was confronted by a sea of silver and green. "That's yours," I informed Malfoy when he reached the top of the stairs. Grunting a response, he walked through and slammed the door behind him. I entered my own room much more daintily.

The bedrooms weren't too large, but they were comfortable. A double four-poster bed took up the middle back of the room, pressed up against the far wall with nightstands on either side. Windows over them faced the same way as the ones below. A wardrobe and desk stood against the wall to the left, far from the door. To my right, the stone wall gave way to another door, supposedly leading to the bathroom.

Hardly awake enough to pull on my pajamas, I struggled into bed. Crookshanks leapt up from wherever he'd been hiding and curled himself against me. Without another thought I fell asleep, the first night of many I'd spend with a Slytherin in the next room, and the thought didn't scare me at all.

It wasn't the first night I woke up screaming. It wouldn't be the last.

I couldn't sleep after that. The soft bed with its scarlet curtains was a trap designed to hide me from the rest of the world. Their shadows seemed to hold the nightmares before my eyes; wherever I looked I saw them. Flinging off the thick covers, I marched my way down to the common room determined not to fall back to sleep.

I woke to the morning sun streaming across my eyes. Rolling over in an attempt to block out the penetrating rays, I only succeeded in flipping myself off the couch. _Smooth, Hermione,_ the little voice in my head scolded. The open book of children's stories lying on the table indicated I'd fallen asleep reading. For a moment I looked around dazedly- why was I sleeping on a couch?

Yawning, I dragged myself up to my room. The windup muggle alarm clock on the beside table was in the process of ringing loudly, indicating only fifteen minutes remained to get down to breakfast and retrieve my schedule. This was turning out to be such a wonderful first day of classes. Sprinting through the halls, I was able to make it to breakfast just in time to snatch my day plan from McGonagall, turn, and rush to Ancient Runes.

"Miss Granger, so nice to see you. You're just barely on time," the professor informed me. Barely catching my breath, I nodded. "There's just one seat left, I hope you don't mind being in the back."

Silver eyes met mine across the classroom. Just as he had during the feast, Malfoy sat alone in the corner. What was even more surprising was just how far from the other Slytherins he sat. There were six more snakes in the classroom, all clustered as far from the blonde as they could be. Hufflepuffs occupied the seats closest to him. The closest kept turning and looking fearfully behind them.

Sliding in beside the Head Boy, I was careful to keep a prescribed distance between the two of us. What had transpired over the summer was a powerful secret, but it needed to stay that way. To the rest of the school, we had simply grown to tolerate each other, nothing more. Therefore, it surprised me when he slipped a note onto my parchment halfway through class.

_Somebody slept late this morning_, it read.

I glared at him. _You could have woken me up._

_Where's the fun in that? _He scribbled, smirking.

I stared resolutely in the other direction as the professor assigned our first translation and dismissed the class. As I opened my mouth to speak, the git rushed out of the room. Muttering under my breath about ferrets and their unreliability I made my way to the library, where I spent my free period finishing the homework and the reading for the rest of the week. It seemed a shame to waste a perfectly good study period, despite only having one class' worth of homework. Besides, I was positive the extra time would come in handy later when I had essays to write and _didn't_ have to worry about Ancient Runes.

Ten thirty rolled around, bringing me to my next class. I'd never been so excited to take a class as I was about this one, including during third year when I'd taken so many new subjects I'd needed to relive time to get to all of them. Children were one of my few remaining joys in life; they always knew precisely how to make you smile. Learning to understand them was truly important to me; hopefully Parenting Class would help me to achieve that goal.

I expected it to be like a muggle health class to an extent. You know, the ones where you study what happens to teen mothers? Of course I was right, but it was nothing like what I'd expected.

The professor beckoning us all into the classroom was a tiny pixy of a woman. Barely over 4ft10, she made me feel tall, and I wasn't even average height. Graying black hair fell from her scalp in ringlets, giving the impression of a much younger woman.

"Welcome, my dears." Her voice was gentle and soothing. I wouldn't have been surprised it several less diligent students started nodding off to it. "Welcome to Parenting. If there's anyone here who hasn't signed up for this class or isn't a seventh year, please excuse yourself now."

The class echoed with snickers as a younger Ravenclaw boy excused himself from the room, blushing.

Smiling, the professor waited for the class to quiet before continuing. "Now that that's resolved, we'll get down to business. My name is Prof. Sheers. Originally I worked with the ministry, but my program has been redefined so now I teach at Hogwarts.

"I know you're all expecting this class to be about note taking an essay writing and test taking. I can tell you right now to think otherwise." Amusement flickered in her eyes as several students - to my embarrassment, myself included – uttered sounds of frustration. She continued, "No, unlike your other classes, this class is graded entirely on one project. Throughout the semester, you will work with a partner to raise a child.

Exclamations of shock and dismay filled the classroom. Lavender Brown, two seats away from me, jumped to her feet. "You can't make us do that! It's inhumane to expect us to be parents, we have our other classes to think of!"

Professor Sheers smiled. "Well that _is_ the title of this class after all, Miss Brown."

As Lavender thudded back into her seat, my hand shot into the air. Sometimes I think it does that of its own accord. The professor called on me even as she flicked her wand at a stack of forms which began settling themselves in front of each student.

"Prof. Sheers, what happens to the children after the class?" I asked.

"A good question, Miss Granger," she replied. "If you'll all take a look at the papers before you, you'll see I've given you a legal form to fill out. As I said before, I used to work in the ministry. I was part of a program put in place to provide children to squib parents. What many people don't realize is that, unlike muggleborn witches and wizards, squibs are born sterile. Many years ago the ministry found a way to take DNA of two parents and semi-artificially create a child.

"This child is a living, breathing, real baby. Donors would provide the DNA and non-magical parents would be able to take home their new baby the next day. However, the process became too tedious to be housed in Ministry offices any longer. Thus, I was brought here, to teach this class.

"It is the goal of this class to provide young witches and wizards with the experience of raising a child while continuing the program. In class, we will use aging spells to help the children along. By the time this class is done in December, your baby will be the equivalent of two years old, at which time they will be put up for adoption as usual."

Concerned murmurs died into shocked silence as Professor Sheers concluded her speech. The woman was talking about this program as if discussing what she had for breakfast. The idea that the ministry could be in control of such a situation completely blindsided me, and I began to fret over what might have happened to it during the War.

"I know you'll all need some time to think about this," the little woman continued. "Take these forms, consider what this class expects of you, and if you still wish to participate by next class, I expect to see you here with everything signed and filled out. Until that time, class dismissed."

And just like that, she had left. It was perhaps the first time in my entire Hogwarts experience where the students stayed in the room a full five minutes longer than the teacher.

The entire thing was a bit overwhelming, however, unwilling to be daunted, I made my way all the way to lunch with my nose inches from the legal forms. Never before had I backed away from a class, no matter how hard it was. Therefore, I wanted to know everything I could about the legalities involved.

"Bloody hell Hermione, are you seriously working already?" Ron's typical exclamation rose as he noticed my presence from the house table. I acknowledged him with a slight hand gesture, unwilling to break my concentration on the complicated legal terminology. Honestly, lawyers just like to make themselves sound smarter.

"He's got a point, you know." Unbeknownst to me, Harry had followed me into the hall. "We're not even done with the first day of classes yet."

The smell of salsa drew me from the papers at last, prompting a growl from my stomach, and I set about constructing a quesadilla. "The Professor gave me a lot to think about," I muttered. My mind was still running through legal jargon. _Should, at that time, both parents consent to approve…._

"You're seriously considering that class, Hermione?" Lavender slid into a seat a few feet down the table.

"What class?" Harry's attention shifted over to the other girl.

"Parenting," the blonde explained. "The whack job of a teacher actually expects us to care for a real baby! I mean, honestly, how much more stress do we need? I'm dropping it."

"I think it's fascinating. I mean to be able to study the growth of a child in an accelerated environment. It's a semi-controlled environment, but with independent parenting styles-"

"Yes, Miss Know-it-all, we know what you think," Lavender cut me off. "Let me know what Daddy thinks, I'm sure you'll drive him insane."

That caught Ron's attention. "Yeah, 'Mione, who do you think the father will be?"

Suddenly my enthusiasm evaporated. I hadn't considered the father.


	3. Chapter 3

The common room was silent later that night but for the occasional scratch of my quill jotting down notes from the reading assigned for History of Magic with Prof. Bins. The topic was botched witch trials in the United States of America, something Harry and Ron would have turned their noses up at, or worse yet, fallen asleep over. Honestly, I don't know how either of those blockheads managed to get through the class for six years.

Oh wait, that's right. I helped them.

Sighing, I set down my quill and stretched. It was barely seven thirty, and the late summer sun streamed in flaming reds and oranges through the window beside our fireplace. Walking over to the glass, I set my head against the cool barrier and gazed out at the Forbidden Forest. Under the light of the sunset the forest's shadows seemed deeper than ever, reaching out across the sloping lawns.

The shadows seemed to spread until they flooded my vision and suddenly it was night and the trees were all about me. Gray bark scratched against my palm as I stumbled and fell. In the moonlight the blood from my hand looked black against the mulch of the forest floor. I stared at it. I wasn't in shock, wasn't curious, just calm. I barely felt it when the pale fingers gripped my shoulder and made to drag me back.

"GRANGER!" Malfoy's voice cut through the darkness suddenly and I blinked, startled from my reverie at the common room window. The blonde removed his hand from my shoulder when I looked up at him. "I've been calling you for a full minute," he said, eyes narrowing as he subjected my features to fierce scrutiny.

"I was thinking." It wasn't a complete lie.

"Uh-huh, and I'm the next muggle prime minister." Silver orbs filled with concern. "Granger, your eyes haven't gone blank like that since-"

"I was just thinking about my classes, okay?" I interrupted him. I couldn't let him finish that sentence. This was not like the last time. This time I was in control.

Malfoy and I hadn't yet talked about the summer despite the number of times we'd come into contact over the last two days, and I wasn't about to start now. As far as I was concerned, that was the past and it would stay there. Despite the early hour, I stormed up to bed and stayed there through the night.

Ginny was really worried about me the next day; any time I wasn't in class I kept my head down and nose in a book. The boys took no more notice than usual, Ron passing it off with a snide remark about how I'd reverted to first-year Hermione who only looked up from a book long enough to scold him about not doing homework. His sister knew better, she could see the desperation with which I attempted to take my mind off the real world.

At lunch, the redheaded witch leaned over and put her hand on my arm. "What's wrong, hun?" she asked.

I glanced down at her arm and then returned to my book in silence.

"Hermione Jean Granger you will answer me, or Merlin help me, I will bat-bogey hex you."

Anyone with half a brain knew to avoid the youngest Weasley's favorite curse. "Just thinking about the summer, that's all." I couldn't meet her eyes.

Ginny stood, taking me by the wrist in her strong grip and dragging me away from the Gryffindor table and our stunned friends. Out in the hall, she dragged me to a secluded corner and stood between me and the way out with her arms crossed. "Spill woman. You haven't talked about it at all."

"I'm fine, Ginny."

"The hell you are, Hermione!" she snapped. "Ever since you magically reappeared at my back gate after _two months_ of not knowing where you were, you've been pretty much silent. You have nightmares if you sleep alone, you take days where you just stare off into space, and now you're even being nice to Malfoy!" She paused to catch her breath. She'd been talking rather loudly and quickly, gesturing wildly to emphasize her points. "What happened to you in that dungeon, 'Mione?" she asked more calmly.

I sighed. "I was tortured Gin, what did you expect?" I chanced to meet her eyes and saw she was shocked and afraid, but that concern and pity overrode those emotions. Without another word I pushed past her and rushed off to potions.

Though I was there a good ten minutes early, and Malfoy was the only other one in the room, we didn't say a word to each other through the entire class. Once more the Slytherins avoided him, and Snape watched our table with concern. After class, he called his godson to the front of the class and they spoke in low whispers while everyone else was cleaning up their cauldrons.

That night in the common room, Draco approached me as I was submerging my consciousness in filling out the paperwork for my Parenting Class the next day. Wordlessly he set a crystal vial on the table with a short note and went up to bed. After a moment I went to read it.

_Miss Granger,_

_Draco has explained to me the circumstances of the summer, and all that happened. I want you to know you can always come to the headmaster or me should you need our assistance. It is not lightly that I offer this, but I know what you're going through and how difficult it can be. I've given Draco some Dreamless Sleep potion for you – don't worry, I didn't tell him what it was. I simply assumed you would need it._

_Sincerely,_

_S. Snape_

I was shocked by such a display of kindness from the Potions Master, but can't really say I was surprised by his reaction. Snape had been the one helping Draco while Draco was helping me. Sighing, I signed the last dotted line on my paperwork and went to bed. Just a sip of the potion was enough to clear my head all night and allow me to wake refreshed the next day.

I needed the energy over the next few days. The next morning in Parenting Class there were cauldrons set up at every two-person desk. Professor Sheers stood before the class with two upside-down top hats on the table in front of her.

"Good Morning, class!" the little witch said cheerfully. "I hope you all slept well last night, you'll need it. I trust that everyone here has signed their papers?"

A chorus of "yes" filled the room before the professor collected the packets from each person with a swish of her wand.

"Excellent, now, today I'll be assigning you partners. There will be one boy and girl, a father and mother, in each group. Today you'll be making your potions, which will sit overnight, and tomorrow you'll be able to pick up your new babies at the Hospital Wing."

She reached a hand into the hat on the left. All of us waited with baited breath to find out who our partner would be.

"First up," she called, "we have Padma Patil." Next she reached into the boys' hat. "Your partner will be Ernie MacMillan." Padma switched seats with her twin to be next to her partner.

Other names were called and soon the entire class was shuffling itself into a new order of male-female pairings. Lavender, who had been talked out of dropping the course by Parvati, ended up with some guy from Ravenclaw, while her friend was partnered with Dean. Seamus was also in our class; he got partnered with a blonde girl from Slytherin. I lost track of the others as people began moving about.

Patiently I waited for my name to be called. It seemed as if I would be the last.

"Miss Granger," Professor Sheers called out, "I'm sorry to say, it appears we have an unequal number of boys and girls in my class this year. I suppose one too many of the men dropped out." There were snickers from many, and some of the other boys nodded gravely, as if they too had considered dropping. The older woman continued, "For those who have partners, come take a handout and the ingredients listed on it. You'll find everything you need on my desk. Please go slowly, work together, and be exact with this potion – remember, you are creating a real child. Any mistakes will have, shall we say, consequences. Miss Granger, please come with me to my office."

Somewhat put out by this turn of events, I followed the short professor to her office in the back of the room as everyone else set about gathering materials. Why did I have to be the one to be called last? I had really been looking forward to this class and the child I'd be charged with.

Professor Sheers' office was small, but nice. She was very organized, and there were pictures along the back wall of her with sets of new parents. One framed photo on her desk showed her own children, laughing and waving happily at the camera.

"Have a seat, Miss Granger," I was instructed. Anxiously I settled into the chair before the desk. The older woman reclined in a much more comfortable seat on the other side. "I'm afraid at this point we only have two options," she explained. "The first is the more simple – that you drop the class and are excused from any sort of responsibility for this project."

"But professor," I cut in, "I've never dropped a class in my life; I can't start that now. Not to mention I'm very interested in this course and in the program. There's so much I could learn. You can't just tell me to-"

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger." My mouth snapped shut. "If you feel that strongly about this assignment, I would suggest you take option number two. That is, to find a male partner among the seventh-year students who would be willing to participate in brewing the potion. The two of you could come to my office tonight and finish the process.

"However, he would not be required to take this class or participate in the childcare in any way. This would leave you to raise a baby to age two on your own, well if you're to earn a passing grade, while completing the rest of your schoolwork. Are you sure you can handle this?"

Before she'd even finished the warnings I was nodding my head. "I'll find someone," I promised.

However, finding a substitute "father" was proving tougher than I'd expected. My first choices were off limits; Harry was dating Ginny and asking Ron would just be awkward. Other Gryffindors were either in relationships, too young, or already partnered for the class. I considered asking one of the Ravenclaw boys, but it seemed none of them wanted anything to do with me. That was to be expected, however, they were all jealous of the fact that I would be valedictorian.

So, I was in a disgruntled mood by the time I returned to the Heads' common room after dinner that night. Half way through potions homework, I slammed my book shut and sat muttering curses under my breath.

"What did that potions book ever do to you, Granger?" Malfoy said. I hadn't even noticed him sitting in the same room.

"It's not the potions, it's Parenting," I grumbled.

My roommate was shocked. "You're having a kid?"

"No," I laughed. I explained about the assignment for Parenting Class. "I've already turned in the paperwork and everything, I just can't find a father."

Draco's blonde head cocked sideways. "I'm kind of sad to have to ask this, but did you ever consider asking me?"

I blushed. To be honest, I had, but had cast it aside. After the summer, I didn't think he would want that kind of connection. We were close enough as it was. "I didn't think you'd be willing," I told him.

"You should know by now that I'm not your enemy."

I nodded. "I just thought, after this summer…."

The Slytherin shook his head, grabbed my hand, and dragged me out into the hall. "You're supposed to be bright, Granger. Come on, let's get you a baby."

We raced down to the Parenting classroom. Professor Sheers let us in when I knocked, smiling at my choice of partner. We worked for an hour at the cauldron she had set up in the corner, while she did some sort of report for the ministry. I have to admit it was nice to work with someone who could keep up with me. Draco always seemed to know exactly what was needed, without needing me to explain my process. Our work seemed more like a choreographed dance than potion brewing.

Finally we came to the last steps. There were several vials provided with labels indicating certain characteristics. We were each allowed to choose one. For several minutes I stood pondering what I'd want my child to be like. In the end, I decided upon "patience" and Draco added "beauty". Last we each pricked our fingers with specially prepared pins, and let three drops of blood each enter the cauldron.

A puff of white steam left the bubbling liquid, and when it cleared, an opaque skin had formed across the top. Professor Sheers looked up from her work then. "Ah, you're finished. Good. Head back to your rooms now; I'll make sure the baby's ready to be picked up in the hospital wing this time tomorrow."

When I tumbled into bed that night, I lay awake for a while, thinking of the coming months. I wondered what my child would be like. What would I call it? Her? Him? No, it would definitely be a girl. What would she look like? That night I dreamed of swarms of children, some who looked like me, others who looked exactly like Malfoy.

The next morning passed slowly. It seemed as if every clock in Hogwarts had deliberately slowed down so that I would be forced to wait forever to see my baby.

By lunchtime, most partners had retrieved their children from the hospital wing. Many of my classmates were missing from the Great Hall as they settled the children into their new homes – the bedroom of one parent or the other. Others opted to bring their children to lunch. Parvati was excitedly showing off her child to the other Gryffindors. She and Dean had been graced with a grouch of a baby, who began crying as soon as anyone other than his mother held him.

"Hermione, are you sure you'll be up to this?" Ginny asked in a whisper as we walked together to our next classes. "You're stressed enough as it is. After this summer, are you sure you can handle a child too?"

I glared at her. "Yes, Ginny. I'm used to responsibility. If I can manage my classes I can handle a baby."

"If you say so…." I shrugged her off and went on with the day. At dinner I tried to ignore the concerned glances she was sending my way every few minutes. I could tell she was still worried about what I had told her about my imprisonment, but I had recovered from that. Mostly. I hoped.

As I was leaving the Great Hall, a pale hand gripped my arm, pulling me to a halt. "Malfoy?" I said, startled.

"I believe you and I have somewhere to be about now, right Granger?" he asked. I checked my watch. Was it really seven thirty already? With a gasp, I raced off toward the hospital wing, Draco following on my heels. For once I didn't worry about what the rest of the school would think, seeing me side by side with my past nemesis. Hopefully they just assumed we'd achieved a truce for our Head student duties.

The heavy oak doors to the hospital wing stood open, and we rushed into the ward. Madame Pomfrey shushed us from where she stood, tending to a sleeping third year. At last she stood and beckoned us into her office.

"I've been expecting you, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy," she said when the door had closed. "I was just about to 'birth' your baby, if you'd like to watch." From a back room she wheeled out my cauldron on a trolley. The pale skin on top had turned a warm tan color.

"Five galleons that it's a boy," Malfoy bet as the nurse hurried about, laying out cloths and cloths for the new baby.

I smirked. "I say girl. What makes you think it'll be a boy?" We shook hands.

"Malfoys are always boys."

"Well maybe _she's_ a Granger."

The blonde crossed his arms, pouting. Smirking a little, I turned my attention back to Madame Pomfrey, wondering as I did so what the child would be like. I was worried she wouldn't like me. Just then, the older witch took her wand from a pocket in her apron and tapped the skin. It split, revealing a sticky liquid underneath. Rolling up her sleeves, the nurse reached in and withdrew a slimy ball of flesh.

Then that ball of flesh began to scream, and I realized that underneath the dripping fluids was a baby. Quickly the nurse wiped it down, wrapped it in a blanket, and handed it to me.

The baby girl quieted as I held her, blinking up at me with blue-green eyes. A tiny bit of blonde hair lay plastered to her head. She had my face, but there was something of Draco in her sharp cheekbones and the shape of her eyes. As I rocked her in my arms, I felt her father drop a handful of coins into my pocket, and I smirked.

"She's beautiful," he murmured.

"Do you have a name in mind, so I can write out the birth certificate?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"Rosette," I said, while Draco blurted out "Evelyn".

We looked at each other. "Evelyn," he insisted.

"Rosette."

"Evelyn Rosette."

"Rosette Evelyn."

"Evelyn Rosette Granger."

"Rosette Evelyn Malfoy."

"Evelyn Rosette Malfoy, and I'll help you change her diapers." He bribed.

"Fine!" Frustrated but smiling, I turned back to Madame Pomfrey. She waited patiently with her arms crossed, smirking. "Evelyn Rosette Malfoy." I told her.

Chuckling a little, she finished the birth certificate and tucked it into her pocket. "I'll send out the certificate to the ministry later. For now," she pointed to the items on her desk, "here's a change of clothes, a box of diapers, a bottle, a toy, and you have the blanket." The toy she pointed to was a soft plush lamb. "The house elves will make sure everything else you need is in your room. Keep in mind, she'll age about two months every week, so you'll need to visit Hogsmead on the weekend to purchase more diapers and clothes."

Evelyn Rosette had fallen asleep in my arms as we talked, so Draco stuffed the supplies into his school bag, taking the box of diapers under his arm. Quietly thanking the nurse, we proceeded out of the ward and made our way back to the dormitories. About halfway there, we ran into Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville on their way to Gryffindor Tower.

Draco awkwardly hung back while my friends approached. They knew little of what had happened over the summer, and weren't as comfortable around him as I was.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron all but shouted, spotting my bundle of joy. "When did you have a baby? You weren't even pregnant!"

"Ronald Weasley, shut up now before you wake Evie!" (**AN:** pronounced Ee-vee) I scolded. In my arms, my baby girl shifted, curling tighter into my chest. "Have you not been paying attention at all over the last three days?"

Ginny swatted his arm. "Yeah, Ron. Half the seventh years are carrying around babies and you haven't even noticed? It's for a class."

Ron's ears turned red in the classic Weasley blush. "Oh."

"She's beautiful, 'Mione," Harry commented, smiling at her. "What's her name?"

"Evelyn Rosette Malfoy. I wanted it the other way around, but someone bribed me with diaper changing." I shot a glare over my shoulder.

"Malfoy?" Harry looked up sharply, seeming to notice the blonde Slytherin for the first time. "Why would you choose him as the father?"

I blushed, and began to stutter out some kind of answer, but Draco came to my aid. "I'm Head Boy," he drawled, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Beside, Potter, you're taken."

"What about me?" Ron exclaimed. Ginny and I both shushed him again.

"I guess I'm just smarter than you, Weasel." Malfoy shrugged. "Better looking too. I'm obviously the better choice."

"Why you little ferret!" my redheaded friend roared.

Ginny smacked him across the back of the head. "Sleeping baby, Ronald," she said menacingly. "Shut it."

"It's alright, Ginny. Malfoy and I should be going back to the common room anyway," I said. Nodding goodbye, as my hands were occupied, I continued on my way. Draco hurried to catch up.

When we entered the common room, we discovered a highchair sitting near the study table. In my room, a crib had been set up beneath one window, a changing table close to it but against the same wall as the bathroom door. Between the two, a soft gold carpet was laid out. On the other side of the bathroom door stood a child-sized dresser. The room had expanded to accommodate the new furniture.

Together, Draco and I tucked Evelyn into the crib, snuggled up in unicorn-print pajamas under her pale green blanket. As I went to do homework, I saw Draco bend down and look through the bars of the crib. For the first time since the summer, he looked truly relaxed and happy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Hello, darling readers! I'm sorry this update has taken so long – school got in the way of my writing. I hope you all like my story so far – I'm really enjoying writing it. What do you think of Evelyn Rosette? You'll get to see more of her in this chapter. And speaking of this chapter – I have a surprise for you all!

**This chapter will be from Draco's perspective!**

That's right, dear readers, Draco will finally be able to tell a little of his story. I wanted to step back from Hermione's mind for a moment, so hopefully this will help. There will be some review of material, but most of it will be brand new.

Enjoy! Please read and respond!

(Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the lullaby Hermione sings in this chapter.)

* * *

When I returned to Hogwarts for this last year, I didn't expect to enjoy it. It was part of my sentence for everything I'd done during the war- the torturing and the abuse, even the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts' headmaster. I can't even begin to explain how horrible I feel about the cruelty Moldy-shorts and my father made me show.

I know it sounds cliché and unbelievable, but please believe me when I say it's not what I wanted.

But then, on the train, I discovered something that gave me hope. Hermione Granger, the mud- no, the muggleborn girl I'd spent most of my summer confiding in, caring for, would be sharing the Head Students' common room with me.

At the start of the year feast, and everywhere I went for the first few days of class the other students avoided me. In my first class, Ancient Runes, Granger sat beside me because it was the last space open. Just the year before, Slytherins would flock to me, even if the other students fled at my approach. It was a glorious feeling, being popular. I didn't have to worry about needing anything, because some first-year student would always take a bit of gold in exchange for fetching whatever we older students required. That's just the way things were done in Slytherin.

I hadn't done much to fight the Slytherin stereotype either. I _enjoyed_ manipulating others. Hell, if I could get away with it, I'd do it. Any menial task that others could do became a tool for my pleasure, except my studies. There was no way a Malfoy would trust his grades to someone else, especially faced with a rival like Granger.

This year, something had changed. Those younger students, who a few months before had tumbled over each other trying to serve me, feared me almost as much as the wimps in Hufflepuff. Others who were closer to my age gazed at me with hatred or disgust. I was alone, just because I had done the right thing and helped a 'mudblood' escape, because turned myself in, because I was a good person. It's sad to think how, even just last year, I was so trapped within my father's power that I would have been disgusted by my current behavior.

I hated old me.

Then, three days into the new term, something changed. Nothing could alter the way my housemates saw me, but I thought maybe, just maybe, I could be redeemed in the eyes of the other houses. It began late that night; Granger was working on the potions homework we'd been assigned the day before, even though it wasn't due until for another week. Halfway through, she slammed the text shut and slouched in her chair.

I couldn't help worrying about her, despite the fact that I was no longer forced to protect her from my father. Not all Slytherins are made of ice, you know. When I asked what was wrong, she explained about her "Parenting Class" and the assignment of raising a baby. Shocking even myself, I offered to be the father of her potion-child, dragging her out of the room and down to the teacher's office.

It was a surprisingly simple potion, and with the two smartest students in the school working together, it took almost no time at all to finish. The second to last ingredient added was a selection of characteristics. Perhaps I'm vain, but I wanted the child – wherever he or she ended up after the project was over – to be popular, not to suffer the humility I'd felt in just a few days. So I poured the silvery liquid in the vial labeled "beauty" into the cauldron.

We added our blood and the potion sealed itself within the iron pot. As we returned to our dormitory, I watched Granger walk ahead of me. She seemed worn and tired; though she was smiling, it was as if some great worry sat upon her shoulders. I should have expected as much. There was pain still weighing on me, lingering from those summer nights in the dark and chilled basement of my father's house.

It rained that night, and thick clouds boded rain for the rest of the week. As thunder boomed overhead, I lay shivering between my sheets, blankets pulled up to my chin. I'd never liked the rain; everything bad seems to happen when it's storming.

Thunder had roared the first time my father cast Crucio on me. It made its presence known the night Hermione arrived at the Manor too. Dragged by one of the Death Eaters, she was tossed at the feet of the Dark Lord. After questioning the girl under torture, he threw her at me, and told me to "keep the mudblood safe in the dungeon". Drops of her blood fell like the rain outside, and her sobs sounded like thunder in my ears.

Thus, as I lay safe in my bed at Hogwarts, far from the dangers of the Dark Lord in both time and space, I curled into a tight ball of fear. The thunder didn't stop until the morning, and I was exhausted after a sleepless night.

I dozed through most of my classes that day, realizing only at dinner that I had something to look forward to. Potion-child or not, my first-born would be meeting the world that day. I scowled into my soup. Father still expected me to provide an heir to the Noble House of Malfoy. No longer hungry all of a sudden, I shoved away my soup and caught up to Granger as she exited the hall. Together we made our way down to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey brought us into her office, where she released the baby its confinement.

I will never forget the first time I laid eyes on little Evelyn Rosette Malfoy. I had traded diaper changing for that name, and would never regret the decision. It was almost as beautiful as she was, and she was the most perfect thing in my world. In that moment, I knew that there was reason for me to live, even knowing what evil lay in my past.

We ran into Granger's friends, Potter and the two Weasels, on the way back to the common room. For once I didn't feel up to teasing them, but I almost beat up the male redhead when he nearly woke my baby girl. Finally we managed to escape to the common room.

The house elves had made some changes to the place, adding baby furniture, so we tucked Evie into her crib. Granger went back to her studies, ever the bookworm, but I stayed for a while longer, just watching my daughter's tiny chest rise and fall gently. My daughter, not my son. I sighed in relief. She would never be the heir my father wanted.

Something stirred within me. A protective beast, long slumbering, finally awoke. Gazing out through my eyes, it spied the baby, so fragile in her crib, and claimed her for its own, growing and spreading and filling every inch of my body. The feeling was like electricity zapping through my bloodstream; I'd never felt something so strong before. Was this what it meant to have a child?

Thunder and screaming woke me just after one that night. After a moment, the crying stopped, but the thunder didn't. Worry for the child overrode my fear and I crept through the bathroom to peak into Granger's room.

The Gryffindor stood with her back to me, facing the window and bouncing Evelyn in her arms. "Hush, baby, that's it," she coaxed. Then she began to sing.

_Little child, be not afraid,_

_The rain pounds hard against the glass_

_Like an unwanted stranger._

_There is no danger._

_I am here tonight._

Her voice was captivating and I was caught in the doorway, unwilling to return to my bed alone when something so comforting was within reach.

_Little child, be not afraid,_

_Though thunder explodes_

_And lightning flash_

_Illuminates your tearstained face._

_I am here tonight._

For a moment I thought her eyes flickered to my reflection in the dark glass, but she didn't change her singing or the pace with which she swayed back and forth. I glanced there myself; I didn't know I'd been crying until then.

_And someday you'll know_

_That nature is so._

_This same rain that draws you near me_

_Falls on rivers and land,_

_On forests and sand,_

_Makes the beautiful world that you see_

_In the morning._

_Little child, be not afraid_

_The storm clouds mask your beloved moon_

_And its candlelight beams_

_Still keep pleasant dreams_

_I am here tonight_

_Little child, be not afraid._

_The wind makes creatures of our trees,_

_And the branches to hands-_

_They're not real, understand,_

_And I am here tonight. _

Standing there, watching this girl holding our daughter, I felt myself become truly calm for the first time, despite the raging storm. Her words seemed to be just what I needed to find peace.

_And someday you'll know_

_That nature is so._

_This same rain that draws you near me_

_Falls on rivers and land,_

_On forest and sand,_

_Makes the beautiful world that you see_

_In the morning._

_For you know, once even I_

_Was a little child, and I was afraid_

_But a gentle someone always came_

_To dry all my tears,_

_Trade sweet sleep for fears,_

_And to give a kiss goodnight._

Flickering memories flooded my mind of times when the summer's rain had me seeking company. Too old to go to my mother, and forbidden from showing weakness in front of my father, I'd withdrawn to the basement cages where I couldn't hear the thunder. I spent many nights talking with Granger through the bars.

_Well, now I am grown_

_And these years have shown,_

_Rain's a part of how life goes._

_But it's dark and it's late_

_So I'll hold you and wait_

_'til your frightened eyes do close._

_And I hope that you'll know_

_That nature is so_

_This same rain that draws you near me_

_Falls on rivers and land,_

_On forests and sand,_

_Makes the beautiful world that you see_

_In the morning._

_Everything's fine in the morning._

_The rain will be gone in the morning,_

_But I'll still be here in the morning._

(**AN:** _Lullaby for a Storm_, by Vienna Teng)

As her voice died away into silence and the sound of the rain took over, I crept back to my own bed. Through the rest of the night I repeated her song in my head. It was the first night I slept through the rain.

The next few days passed without mishap, surprisingly. Well, other than the typical issues of new parents. Evie was under a spell to make her age faster, but it would be a while before she slept through the night even so. At least she didn't cry too much. Granger's professor hadn't required that I look after our baby, but I couldn't keep myself away when she was around. During the day her mother took her to every class, but it was my turn to hold her as soon as dinner rolled around and I kept her through the evenings.

Saturday dawned bright and clear. I rolled out of bed at a little after ten and walked down to the common room in my pajamas. Hermione was seated in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, cooing softly to Evelyn while feeding her. Over the week, my baby girl had visibly grown; she was now nearly a month old under the influence of the spell. She could lift her head a little bit on her own, and would even smile at me on occasion.

"Good morning, Draco," Hermione said. The witch always seemed to know as soon as I entered the room.

"Morning, Granger. How's the little one?" I yawned, plopping myself down on the couch. Reaching over, I allowed Evie to capture one of my fingers in her tiny fist. Slytherin's balls, she was strong for a one-month-old.

"She's doing well, we've been up since seven." The brunette looked up at me. "Listen, Draco, I was wondering. I need to go to Hogsmeade later. Evie needs more diapers and I should pick up some other things too. Do you," she bit her lip nervously, "do you mind taking Evie for the day? All day?"

Smirking, I reached out my hands. "Give her here, Granger."

She shook her head. "I'll burp her first and change her and get her dressed. You're sure you can handle it? She's not your project remember, and even so, a baby needs proper care. You've hardly done the work for her before." Her brow was creased with worry lines. They definitely did not look good on her. Not that I cared about that!

"I'll be fine, Granger. I can handle it."

There was that classic know-it-all eyebrow lift she had perfected. "You're sure? I'll be gone all day."

I nodded.

"You'll remember to feed her?"

"Of course."

"And you'll change her diaper if she needs it?"

"Yes, mother," I sighed. "I know what to do, alright? Trust me a little."

As soon as the phrase left my lips, I regretted it. Pain flickered through her eyes as she remembered the last time those same words had been said to her. In the dark, I'd thrown her up on the back of one of the Malfoy horses, jumping up in front. The mare reared, neighing loudly in surprise, before I dug my heels into her sides and she bolted out into the rain. We'd both panicked, watching for any sign that my father or the Dark Lord had been alerted. _You're going to squeeze me in half, Granger,_ I'd cried, attempting to loosen her death grip on my stomach. _I know what I'm doing! Trust me a little._

Silently, Granger rose from the chair and left the room. I lay back along the couch, putting my feet up. How could I have been so insensitive? That time was stressful for her at best; it was obvious the bookish Gryffindor didn't want to talk about those months, or even acknowledge them more than was necessary to remind herself that I was one of the good guys.

Twenty minutes later, as I lay staring out the window at the forest, a gentle weight settled heavily on my chest. Returning my attention to the room, I discovered Granger standing over me and Evelyn Rosette lying on my abdomen. Her tiny body was clad in the same pale pink sweater and pants set she'd been wearing every day. Thankfully the house elves always left it clean and folded in her dresser drawers each morning.

"I'm off Draco," Granger said. "Her diaper bad is up next to the changing table if you decide to go somewhere. _Please_, don't get in any trouble."

I nodded, sitting up and hoisting the baby into my arms. The distant sound of the portrait opening and closing barely registered as I matched Evelyn's intense gaze with my own.

"D'you hear that, small one?" I cooed. "You be good for Daddy, or Mummy will be mad." She smiled at me.

My stomach growled. Groaning, I made my way upstairs. Leaving my daughter in her crib, I prepped for the day, pulling on a silver and green t-shirt and black pants. As an after thought I tossed a leather jacket over my shoulder. It was still nice enough to take a walk near the lake that afternoon.

The two of us, Evie and I, made our way down to the Great Hall for some breakfast. By this time Granger had grown accustomed to the weird looks she received carrying the child from place to place, but it was not so easy for me. Most people knew she was part of the parenting class, but I couldn't use that excuse.

It was difficult to eat while holding a baby, but I didn't want any of the others to hold her. Blaise Zabini, the only friend I still had in my house, offered to take her once or twice. I trusted him enough, but there was too much of a risk that the others would get to her, and who knows what they might do.

After breakfast Blaise walked with us down to the lake, were we lay on the grass and watched the giant squid tease some first years. Evie fell asleep, sprawled out on her green blanket, her strong fist closed around my thumb again. After a while, my friend left to do some research in the library.

The next thing I knew, someone was shaking me awake. "Draco!" Blaise's deep voice called.

I blinked up into the afternoon sunlight. "Mate, what's wrong?" I croaked, my throat still gummy from sleep.

"Oblivious git," he said. "You're daughter's gone."

With a jolt I sat up straight, nearly knocking into Blaise's forehead in the process. My eyes darted frantically about. There was my jacket, my wand laying at my side, the diaper bag tucked under my head as a makeshift pillow. To my left lay Evelyn's blanket, now crumpled and slightly dirty, as if whoever had messed with it had done so in a rush.

"Bloody f-ing hell," I swore. Hermione would never forgive me for this. Scratch that; I'd never forgive myself. In a moment I was on my feet, gathering what remained. "Come on, Blaise, you're helping me."

In a craze we raced from person to person. House colors flew before my eyes; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, they were all the same to me. Many were too frightened to do anything more than shake their heads when I asked if they'd seen my little girl.

Finally a blonde Ravenclaw, Looney Lovegood, dreamily commented that she'd seen a pair of Slytherin boys running back to the castle, carrying Hermione Granger's crying baby. "I was looking for her but the Nargles distracted me."

Typical, I thought, watching Luna wave her arms around her head as if chasing off imaginary pixies.

However, I left her to her own amusement and sprinted back up into the castle. There was no telling who those Slytherins were, what they wanted, or where they would take my daughter. Blaise ran off to the dungeons while I searched the Great Hall and the first floor.

We met back in the Entrance Hall, out of breath and both still childless. "Heard… Crabbe seen with… baby… Astronomy Tower… drop off," Blaise panted.

I swore, my curses echoing around the hall. Students on their way to lunch fled into the Great Hall.

Just then, the front doors creaked open, revealing Hermione and another Gryffindor girl, laden with shopping bags.

"Draco Malfoy, you watch your language!" she scolded. "You're Head Boy, not to mention you have a … baby… with you…" she trailed off into silence, finally noticing the state my companion and I were in, and the lack of a certain precious bundle.

"Granger-" I attempted, but she cut across me.

The brunette stormed into the hall, becoming more infuriated and terrifying with every step. Her hair poofed out like a storm cloud. "Draco Luscious Malfoy. Where. Is. My. DAUGHTER?"

She'd stalked me against the wall, against which I now pressed, trying to put some distance between my throat and the tip of her threatening wand. All her bags lay forgotten on the floor.

Merlin's balls, the witch could be scary; I almost felt like crying.

"Crabbe took her while I was asleep," I whimpered. Ugh, that high pitched, terrified voice should never have left a Malfoy's mouth.

"Where?"

"Astronomy Tower, he's going to drop her off it."


	5. Delayed: Please read and be patient!

My dear readers. I apologize soooooo sincerely for the extremely long wait for this next chapter. I swear I'm still thinking about this story and worrying about when I'll be able to post again, but for right now I have to deal with summer college classes, helping my mom sell the house and move to Arizona, and moving in with a friend. When things calm down, which should be mid July at the latest, I'll post again. Until then, please don't lose faith in me.

With love,

BrokenRosesBlack


	6. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: I'm going to cut straight to the point. **Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you** for being so patient with me, though I have failed to live up to my promises. This summer was the busiest of my life – I took summer classes and moved three times (out of my house, into an apartment, and from there my mom left for Arizona while I moved in with a friend) – so it is with complete honesty that I say there was hardly time to think let alone write.

But that time of stress is over!

As strange as it sounds, I'm now back in the official school year and have MORE time to write than I did before. So without further ado, here's the next chapter! You can expect the next really soon as well.

* * *

"Astronomy Tower, he's going to drop her off it."

As soon as the words left Draco's lips, I was off. I bounded up the stairs, three at a time. Startled first years flung themselves out of my path before they could be run over. It would have happened too; at that point, anything standing between me and that baby girl would die. They say adrenaline does marvelous things to the body. I don't know if it was adrenaline or just the knowledge that if I didn't move fast enough, my baby girl would be a pile of flesh and bone on the grass so far below. Whatever it was, that force drove me like fire before a strong wind.

Less than seven minutes later – a new Hogwarts record! – I started up the steps to the tower. In my head numbers flew by as I did the math, estimating when Crabbe had gotten his hands on Evelyn, how quickly he walked, how long it would take him to reach the roof. Depending on whether or not he'd been stopped along the way, the oaf would be there in roughly thirty seconds.

Which means I had thirty seconds to climb over a hundred stairs.

My brain turned off then. Every ounce of energy went to my pounding legs as I sped upwards. Oxygen didn't seem to matter anymore; I could barely catch a breath.

After what seemed like an eternity of imagining Evelyn Rosette lying broken at the foot of the castle, the trapdoor to the roof came into sight. A voice called out as I scaled the ladder. "Hermione, wait!"

"_Not now_, Malfoy!" I screeched.

With a shove I thrust the portal open and pulled myself up. The sun momentarily blinded me.

"Do it now, Crabbe!" someone shrieked, her voice hissing over to me from one of the two dark figures I could just barely make out standing against the wall.

"Immobilus!" My spell hit the larger of the two blurs in the back. With a grunt, Crabbe, immobile, tipped forward and stood propped against the wall. A shrill cry rose from within his frozen arms.

"You!" the female voice shouted. Blinking the sunspots from my eyes, I began to make out the slim, blonde-haired figure of Astoria Greengrass. "Expelliarmus!"

The thin weight of my wand flew from my hand and clattered on the stone somewhere behind me. Finally adjusted to the light, I glared at the Slytherin girl. Far below us, the sloping grounds of Hogwarts rolled away. We were far above the tops of the tallest trees in the Forbidden Forest. Under normal circumstances, I would have been terrified.

"Give me my daughter, Greengrass."

She snorted. "After all I went through convincing Crabbe to get her for me? Hell no." The blonde stepped forward, he wand still aimed at my chest. "Do you know what that child means to me, Granger? Go on, answer."

"Not nearly as much as she means to me," I snapped.

"Hatred, that's what. And betrayal. And disgust." Greengrass' eyes narrowed dangerously. "You stole my fiancé from me. Then you have the audacity to weasel him into your stupid parenting class and taint his first born with your dirty blood." She spat at my feet.

Just as I opened my mouth to bark out a response, another voice rose from behind me. "She didn't force me, Astoria. I chose this."

Draco's head and shoulders struggled up from within the tower. We both froze as he crawled out onto the stone platform, wheezing. What was wrong with him? My blood was pumping, sure, but I felt fine.

"Tory, please, listen," he coughed. "We both know that marriage fell flat when my father went to prison."

"Hmph," she snorted.

"It's just a class, Greengrass," I snarled. "I'm not stealing your bloody boyfriend."

The girl's black and green robes swirled around her in the wind. Blonde hair streaking out behind her, she looked like something right out of a fairy tale. I'm not sure whether it was the evil witch or the beautiful princess.

"Tory, just leave," Draco begged. "Leave now." Shaking, he pulled his wand from within his robes. "I don't want to have to curse you."

Greengrass weighed her options, glancing between Draco and I. Part of her seemed to want to stay, to throw a complete hissy fit, but the other half knew the Head Boy meant what he said. Finally the threat of being cursed by the second most talented student in the school sealed the deal. Glowering, she descended back into the castle.

Once I had gathered up my wand, I turned to face my dorm mate once more. For the second time that hour I found myself looking down the length of my wand at a scared little ferret.

"What the bloody hell was that about, Malfoy?" I snarled.

"What was what about?" The late afternoon sun glinted off his sweating skin as he scrambled to his feet.

"Why didn't you tell me you were engaged?" The words came out higher in pitch than I had intended, sounding more like a jealous screech than angry explosion. Someone else's upset cry nearly overrode my words, however, reminding us both why we had raced so quickly to the tower in the first place.

Forgetting Astoria Greengrass I rushed over to the immobilized form of Crabbe. His eyes, the only part of him left moving, flickered back and forth in terror. There, hanging over the edge of the tower yet safe in the frozen cradle of his arms, lay my Evelyn Rosette. Upon seeing me, she calmed, breaking into a calm smile. Her pink jumper was a little messy, but otherwise she seemed unharmed.

"Hush pretty baby," I cooed. "Mummy's here now. I'll never let you out of my sight again, I promise." Cradling her securely to my chest, I brushed past Malfoy's speechless form and slipped back down into the school. My breathless flight was catching up to me now, but I fought the lightheadedness and made my way back to our common room, where I was sure Fay Dunbar –my old Gryffindor roommate who I'd spent the day with – had taken all of my shopping. She was a sweet girl, really, and it's a shame we didn't get to be friends sooner. Every once in a while I stumbled, propping myself up against a wall to fight off the dizziness

Sure enough, a collection of shopping bags lay propped against the portrait of the woman and child. The woman smiled at me as I approached. "Good afternoon, Miss Hermione," she said. "Password?"

"River blossoms," I grumbled. With a nod, she swung the portrait open quickly. My don't-talk-to-me mood must have been overwhelming, for even the friendly portrait picked up on it. Levitating all of the bags, I proceeded to my room, slamming the bedroom door behind me. Evie let out a little shriek and I sighed, hushing her again. Settling onto the bed, I lay her gently on my chest. One tiny hand reached out and tugged on a strand of hair as she looked around with wide eyes.

How could Draco be so thoughtless? Crabbe wasn't sneaky by any stretch of the imagination; Malfoy must not have been paying any attention to our child at all if that oaf were able to just wander up and snatch her. I'd thought my dorm mate actually enjoyed looking after his daughter, and was responsible enough to do so. _You really trusted him?_ a small voice in the back of my head wondered.

Yes, of course I had trusted him. Hadn't he done enough to earn my trust? Those long nights of darkness, moments I scarcely wanted to remember but which refused to fade from my mind, were broken only by the light he provided. That flickering candle descending into the depths of the dungeon where I lay- it was a beacon of hope. Not all darkness was evil it seemed to whisper. The haunting shadows plaguing my mind completely overwhelmed him, yet Draco was not as evil as all Gryffindors seemed to think.

I started out hating him, almost as much as I began to hate myself, which was almost as much as I hated Lord Voldemort. It seemed reasonable. The entire Malfoy family could be blamed for my predicament – it had been Luscious Malfoy himself who dragged me before the Dark Lord. And then once I was there, that monster of a man, if he could even be called human, turned his wand on me. They watched. Draco watched, and did nothing to stop it. Nothing, not even when his master had tired of using Crucio and moved on to other, more "entertaining" methods.

_Exactly_, that little voice in the back of my head whispered. _You meant nothing to him. Why should your daughter be any different? Your helpless MUDBLOOD daughter._

_Draco saved me_, the more logical half argued back, while at the same time wondering whether it was exactly sane to have debates with myself. That was the truth too. Draco started out as something worthy of my hatred; he was a cruel jailer. Closely monitored by one of his superiors, he took a swing at me while bringing me scraps of food, he laughed when I twisted under the effects of some spell. Each death eater took a turn at it, at some point.

But then the storms hit. I knew it was raining because when the basement door would fly open, I could hear thunder and see flashes of lightning beyond the silhouette of my visitor. It must have been near midnight, or very early in the morning, one time, because Draco managed to slip down there with a loaf of bread and a candle. He shuddered while locking the door behind him and descending into the dark.

He stayed with me for most of the night, tearing off hunks of bread and passing them through the bars. Malfoy apologized for how he'd treated me, though I didn't accept. He said I didn't need to. I sat in silence and listened to him talk, telling me what it was like to grow up with a father like that, complaining about how he himself had been treated. When he was done, any semblance of kindness fled from his expression and he returned to the sneering mask. He made me promise not to tell anyone.

It continued that way for about a month –which sadly demonstrates just how long I'd been locked up in there- until the attack on a muggle village killed his muggleborn tutor. I never knew the girl, but it was obvious her death upset my only friend. He cried for the first time; it may have even been the first time in his life. When the tears stopped, resolve to their place, and he freed me from that hell of a life.

I learned at his trial he had been viciously beaten for allowing me to "slip past on his watch".

The doubting voice spoke up, _he deserved it. _Clamping down with the rest of my mind, I managed to push the thought to the back of my mind, where it could sit and rot for all I cared. Draco had saved me that night, perhaps even that first time when he fed me. I certainly would have starved without him.

But did that really make him fit to care for my daughter? He managed to let Crabbe get past him, when he should have been guarding her with his life. Draco saved me but could hardly be bothered to pay attention to his own child. I sighed in frustration, rubbing my forehead in an attempt to fight off the headache pounding behind my eyes. What was the use in my racing after Evelyn myself if I couldn't focus enough to care for her?

War heroine survives imprisonment by the enemy only to die by self-asphyxiation from sprinting. Rita Skeeter would have a field day with that title.

A gentle knock sounded on my bedroom door, knocking me from the rough draft of Skeeter's article I'd been writing in my head. "Granger, I'm sorry," came Draco's muffled voice.

"Sod off, Malfoy," I grumbled, picking Evie up and rocking her in my arms. Her tiny face lit up in a glowing smile. However, it quickly became obvious that her goofy grin was less from my presence than the contents of her freshly reeking diaper. Looking around for a clean one, my search came up empty. The bags I'd brought back from Hogsmead, which held more supplies and clothes, among other things, were sitting on the other side of the door. The side which was currently occupied by the object of my frustration.

Firming my resolve, I yanked open the door, nearly storming into Malfoy's outstretched fist as he made to knock again. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry, I fell asleep," he pleaded. Ignoring him, I grabbed the bag with the new box of diapers and retreated to the changing table. He followed me in.

"I never meant for this to happen, I swear it."

"Yeah?" I snapped, not inclined to be friendly just then. "What about 'Tory', then? Why didn't you tell me about her?" Despite my shaking voice, my hands were steady as they cleaned Evelyn up.

Without thinking about it, Draco handed me the diaper powder. "I swear I didn't realize anything like that would happen."

"Tell me about her then. You've never mentioned your fiancé before."

He sighed and followed me out into the common room. "What is there to tell? It was arranged; my father's imprisonment effectively nullifies it. My mother took control of the contract and she refuses to sign it. No more contract, no more wedding, no more Astoria Greengrass.

"Hmph," I replied. I wanted to stay angry, but, on this subject at least, his logic outweighed my emotional state.

Draco lowered himself onto the couch beside me. His typically neat Slytherin robes and silky blonde hair now looked like Ron's robes after a particularly rough Quidditch match and Harry's hair after… well, after a normal day. There was no doubt that he'd put as much, if not more, of his energy into finding the baby as I did. Anger slipped further into the realm of frustration with every detail I noticed. He was out of breath, his limbs shook from exertion, and his nice jacket was missing.

I paused. "Draco," I said, rather more nicely than before, "where're your things?"

His eyes went wide with surprise. "Oh, hell," he muttered. "I must have dropped them while running around looking for…" sheepishly he glanced in my direction, unwilling to finish that statement.

Sighing, I took out my wand. "What did you have with you?"

"My jacket, my school bag, Evie's blanket." He ticked each object off on his fingers. "Oh! And her diaper bag, with her bottle in it." Giving a swish, I accio'ed everything into the room, causing objects to either fly in through the window or the portrait hole, passed our confused guardians. "Thanks," the blonde murmured.

We sat there is silence for some time. Evelyn gurgled quietly in my arms, finally drifting off to sleep a while later. Darkness descended upon the room, casting long shadows as the sun set beyond the forest. Where had all the time gone?

"You should sleep, Granger," Draco said finally. "Take Evie upstairs too."

"I have homework-" I started, but he interrupted with "No way. You're ahead in every class already, just go sleep."

"When did you get to be so bloody conscientious?"

Sad eyes met mine. "You have enough to worry about, Granger," he muttered. "And I lost _our child_ today. Let me be the good guy, okay?"

_You are the good guy,_ I wanted to say, but instead I grabbed Evie's blanket and strode upstairs. He was right on one thing at least, the baby should be in bed. Maybe I was ahead in every other class, but Parenting Class revolved around caring for the child; that needed to be my priority.

After I tucked Evelyn Rosette into her crib I lay purposelessly stretched out on my bed in the dark. So much contemplation that day and yet I couldn't pull my mind away from those sorts of thoughts. Such as, how the heck was I supposed to keep up with my work once the baby started running around on her own? Or talking? How could I keep her quiet in class long enough to take notes? Visions of her bobbing blonde head running off in the middle of potions class to bother the other Slytherins played like a movie across the curtains of the bed. The Slytherins knew of the project of course, but this was not just any child, this was the daughter of Gryffindor's "Golden Girl". Merlin I hated that name. The number of things in a potions class at our level that could poison or otherwise affect her was innumerable. Just one taste of something handed to her by a malicious Slytherin and suddenly she's sick or dead. And of course it's blamed on me in both classes for being a bad parent and letting her run off.

Draco was right. Sleep tugged at my eyelids relentlessly. Perhaps with a little sleep the terrible visions would go away and I could just relax for a bit. The clock had yet to strike nine and even so my eyes fluttered shut and I drifted off to sleep. The vial of dreamless sleep potion standing neglected on my nightstand foretold a rough night to come.


End file.
